


beware of the deep blue

by TheLaziestMotherfucker



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Capitalism, M/M, Mermaid Nicky, Mermaid Nile, Mermaids, fishermen, not beta read we die like men, this is loosely inspired by the show Siren
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:09:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26762605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLaziestMotherfucker/pseuds/TheLaziestMotherfucker
Summary: In the day, you can stay and play. In the night, you should run and hide for death awaits on the other side. Beware the ones with watered lungs who you will succumb to with their fatal lips. Beware the ones with the sharp nails and teeth for they will not hesitate to make you their feast. Underneath the crashing waves lies a mystery that will never leave its grave. Those who dared had never feared until they lost their air. Those who come near and hear of their lore will sneer and leer. It’s all fun and games until they disappear.Beware of the night. Beware of the blue. For in the deep dark blue lies a nightmare unknown. You never know what lurks in the dark.
Relationships: Andy | Andromache & Booker | Sebastien & Nile Freeman & Joe | Yusuf & Nicky | Nicolò & Quynh, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 24
Kudos: 63





	1. you never know what lurks in the dark

**Author's Note:**

> Uh yeah I missed writing creature fics so here we are 
> 
> Don't know if this will be anything but if you guys want it then comment a bunch or else I will forget I ever wrote this
> 
> This is loosely inspired by the show Siren

_In the day, you can stay and play. In the night, you should run and hide for death awaits on the other side. Beware the ones with watered lungs who you will succumb to with their fatal lips. Beware the ones with the sharp nails and teeth for they will not hesitate to make you their feast. Underneath the crashing waves lies a mystery that will never leave its grave. Those who dared had never feared until they lost their air. Those who come near and hear of their lore will sneer and leer. It’s all fun and games until they disappear._

_Beware of the night. Beware of the blue. For in the deep dark blue lies a nightmare unknown. You never know what lurks in the dark._

**xXx**

He was being pulled back, that much he knew. Not physically, he thought. At least, he hoped not physically. That would make his current situation far more complicated. He was being pulled back into consciousness. His body awoke first, becoming aware of the unbearable cold temperature around him. His fingers twitched, breaking through the frozen stiffness that had solidified over who knows how long. His eyebrows furrowed at the feeling underneath him, bringing him further to life. He dug his fingers into the surface. It was sand. 

He gasped back to life. His eyes opened wide only to immediately shut again in the harshness of the light. His head was throbbing. His body was aching. He was going to vomit. 

He quickly rolled over onto his stomach, coughing and heaving into the sand until alas his did vomit. “Fuck,” He muttered. He turned over onto his back again, throwing his forearm over his eyes. 

_You got a concussion,_ he thought to himself. _Not only did you get a concussion, but you’re on a fucking beach._

They had been on a boat the night before, trying to catch more fish. He knew it was stupid. There was a forecast of a storm that night and they knew no one would be on the water if something were to happen. No one was ever on the water at night. But their luck at been shit lately. They were barely bringing in anything and whatever they did catch was poisoned by the Merrick oil company. No fish meant no money and the world revolves around money. So they went out. Booker was hopeful that the storm would miss them. Andy was certain they could handle it. And Joe went along because they always did. But the storm didn’t miss them. In all of his years at Briar, nothing ever missed them. He would go as far to say that they were a hot spot more than anything else. 

His body surged under the sudden feeling of panic. _Booker and Andy!_ They were left on that boat whenever - and however - he went over. He needed to get up. He needed to get up, _now_!

He sat up, grunting at the ache in his ribs and the throbbing of his head. He squinted his eyes and winced at the brightness of the sun. Huh, the sun was out. The sun was hardly ever out in Briar, and just his luck, it was shining brightly when he absolutely shouldn’t be looking at anything bright. He looked at the shore from which he was a few feet away. He turned to his right, hoping to see something familiar, but most of their beaches looked the same. He turned to his left and froze in place. 

People. Two people. Actually, two naked people. A white man and a black woman. They were unconscious on their stomachs sprawled out amongst the sand. They looked as if they had crawled there. They were only a few feet apart from each other but a few yards away from Joe. 

He got up far too fast, worrying for a brief moment if he would pass out, before clumsily running on the sand to the pair. He slid onto the ground in front of them, holding up two fingers to each of their necks, breathing a sigh of relief when he felt both of their pulses. “Hey,” He said, hoping to wake them up with his voice alone. If he were naked and unconscious on a beach, he probably would not like being shaken away by a stranger. “Hey!” He repeated, louder this time. His fingers reached out, flexing a few times before deciding to touch the woman. He lightly poked her. Nothing happened. He applied a bit more pressure and started to shake her a bit. “Hey, are you okay?” He wasn’t expecting an answer. He was just being hopeful. “Hey!” He shouted one last time before his hand was ripped away. 

The man’s hand was cold on his wrist. Arguably, it was as cold as his glare. His grip was tight and Joe didn’t fight against it. Instead, he glanced back and forth between him and the woman. “You’re friend,” He started. “She’s not waking up.”

The man narrowed his ease at him, his stare unwavering. Joe covered the man’s hand with his own. His eyes widened but only a bit. He hadn’t expected Joe to do that. His grip went lax, giving Joe the opportunity to unwind his fingers and bring his hand over to his friend. Something changed then. He wouldn’t go as far as to describe him as feral but he would not be surprised if the man had intended on attacking him. He seemed to have viewed Joe as such an imposing threat that he had gone into defense, only thinking about the protection of his friend. 

His friend turned from the bloody cold to stare to immediate worry. His hand went to the woman’s shoulder and his face to her ear. He gently shook her as he whispered a language that was unfamiliar to Joe. He was fluent in a few languages and it was unlike anything he had heard before. But it worked. 

He sat back as the man attempted to wake her up. Joe wanted to reach out but he did not think the man would be too happy with him. He stayed kneeling in front of them, watching as the woman slowly started to move. Much like him, she was slow. He was so used to the sound of waves that it didn’t strike him as odd until he felt the sand. She was probably so used to hearing the man’s voice that it must’ve felt like another day for her. The man slowly backed away from her, giving her the space to sit up. 

“Oh,” He let out. He had been so panicked about them waking up he had forgotten they were naked. He unzipped his winter jacket and handed it to her. Luckily for the man, he was wearing a hoodie as well and handed it over to him, leaving Joe in his T-shirt and uncomfortably damp jeans. It wouldn’t be enough for either of them but it was something. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, leaning in slightly to check her face for any injuries. 

Her face twisted into a confused expression. She turned to the man and spoke in their language. He tried asking again, but this time in Dutch. He was met with confusion once more. Then he tried Italian. Then French. Then Arabic. Each attempt was met with confused silence. 

He held out his hands for the two of them. The didn’t accept so he stood up, hands still stretched out for them to accept. 

Hesitantly, the man accepted it. He grunted and winced as he moved his legs underneath him. Joe tightened his grip on him as the man stumbled to stand up, catching him when he was about to fall over. Joe tried to cup the man’s face, trying to see if he had any injuries as well, but he was pushed away. _Fair_ , he thought to himself, but the man’s imbalance did worry Joe. _He could be concussed as well_. That was the only explanation he could think of for two other naked people seemingly washing up on the shore. 

The man stood still. A slight look of worry passing over his eyes as if he didn’t want to fall again. Joe turned back to the woman who had remained on the ground. He held out her hand and she accepted. She was about the same as the man. Her legs shook and her face twisted in pain. 

There wasn’t a bruise or distortion amongst either of their bodies. They looked perfectly healthy. He held her elbows as she steadied herself and she held his back. He picked up the forgotten coat on the ground and held it out for her to put her arms through. She didn’t move. 

“Um,” He mumbled, turning the coat around. “You put your arms through.” He showed her as he spoke. 

She raised her eyebrows in what he hoped was understanding. He turned the coat around and she slid her arms through. Next to them, the man observed, opening and closing the hoodie to see where he would put his arms. Joe zipped up her coat and then turned back to the man, doing the same for him. 

He crossed his arms over his chest and shivered against the wind. They seemed to be unbothered. “C’mon,” He said, nodding his head towards the trees that lied at the end of the beach. He knew that they would not understand him, but he hoped they would follow, and they did. The three of them slowly started to walk to the sand and into the forest, and hopefully, they would come across a road. 

Unbeknownst to Joe, at the edge of the water, rested two shedded tails that were slowly disappearing into the ocean. 


	2. never stay in the water after sunset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He hated adults. They warned and scared them with stories of what had and what will happen. They spoke of people who knew the truth but kept them from seeking it out themselves. Adults hid and scared them, only to turn around and laugh at their fear. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> proof that i am continuing this

When Joe was a kid, about thirteen years old, his family and his neighbors had dinner at their house. It was fun. For adults. He was the only kid there. The neighbors were nice, but that wasn’t why he remembered that night. He had bought a goldfish. It was a small fishbowl that held a castle and a mermaid statue at the bottom. He would often just sit and watch his fish swim around in circles. He had done that same thing that night while his parents and neighbors were chatting around the table.

"That mermaid is pretty cool," the Husband said, trying to make conversation with him. Joe kept silent. As he said, they were nice, but they weren’t other kids. He didn’t really want to speak to more grown-ups. They intimidated him. "Do you believe in mermaids?" He asked.

Joe shook his head. He knew the man was trying to coax him into speaking - trying to include him in the conversation - but he remained silent. Not many thirteen-year-olds believed in mermaids. That tended to be a belief of a little eight-year-old. He was too old to believe in such myths. 

"This town believes in them," He said as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. Joe had to admit that he did start listening to the man, then, but he kept his focus on his goldfish. "If you guys ever go to the beaches here, never stay in the water after sunset."

"Oh we never do," His mom said. "Beaches always get so dark at night. I have no idea how anyone can do anything at that time."

The Husband pursed his lips and took a sip of his wine. "That's good. Not many people go out anymore around here. Whenever they do it’s usually someone new."

"They don’t listen," the Wife added. 

The Husband shook his head. "A lot of people go missing in those waters at night. Some people think there are sinkholes that suck people in. Others think there are caves in the ocean floor that has such a current they can never get out. And a few people - and I mean a few - think that it’s mermaids."

In Joe's experiences as a thirteen-year-old, whenever someone spoke about being mermaids being real, the adults always smiled or laughed. They would always tell them that mermaids were a thing of dreams - something that a drunk man might say he saw if he was wandering by the beach by himself.

But they didn’t laugh. 

The room was quiet and tense as the Husband continued with his tales of woe. He told them about the facts and the lore of Briar that had been interwoven by a few fanatics. All the whole Joe stared deep within his fishbowl, wishing he could be the one to find out the answers. 

But then he continued. 

"You see, the bodies were never found. The ocean is vast and deep and you can’t see anything in it at night. There are some places in the ocean that humans simply can’t go to. This town always loses people at night and always because they wanna go for a midnight swim.”

He paused, taking another sip of his wine. 

"You really can’t see anything out there at that time. You never know which way is up and down and drowning becomes inevitable. It’s not out of the question that the ocean would take a willing body."

"But why mermaids?" His mother asked. Joe turned his head to look at his parents and the neighbors sitting at the table. There had to be a reason why. Everything had to have a reason, he thought. Life would be too pointless without reason or meaning. 

He only shrugged his shoulders. "Not sure. You would have to ask the people who believe that. But there have always been stories here about them. Tales of large, pointy teeth and nails that serve as claws. And they take the people who swim out and night and eat them." The man actually laughed at that. Joe's stomach twisted into an ache. "It’s all stories, kid," He said, looking directly at Joe. 

He hated adults. They warned and scared them with stories of what had and what will happen. They spoke of people who knew the truth but kept them from seeking it out themselves. Adults hid and scared them, only to turn around and laugh at their fear. 

"I know," He said, turning back to his fishbowl. 

**xXx**

They were a couple miles out for town. That much he knew. Thankfully, they weren’t too far from the road. Only about a twenty-minute walk or so. A couple miles would not be so bad is they were all dressed in dry clothes and shoes. But that was not the case.

The man and woman were not the best of traveling companions. Not only were they traveling in dead silence, but their legs did not seem to be strong enough for such a hike. He didn’t fault them for it. Who knows what happened to them the night before. But Joe needed to get back to town. He needed to know if Andy and Booker were okay. They needed to know he was okay.

He had given the man his shoes soon as they departed their spot on the beach. Their forest was much cleaner than their waters but the broken branches and rocks made it more difficult for them to walk on their shaky legs. So, he sat down and took his shoes off, handing them to the man. He held them for a minute or two before Joe realized he did not know what to do with those either. He sighed as he knelt on the cold forest floor and guided the man’s feet into the shoes, double knotting so he would hopefully not have to do it again. Then the difficult part came. Slowly and lightly, Joe touched the man’s shoulder while holding his other hand out for the woman. He brought her close and put her hands on both of his shoulders, demonstrating what he wanted the man to do. Thankfully, he understood.

He thought about whether or not he should carry her himself, with the man’s legs not being steady, but Joe did not want the man’s feet to suffer and Joe would not have been able to carry her barefoot.

When Joe saw the road in the distance, he held his hands up for the two of them to stop walking. They couldn’t be seen, not naked. If there was any hope of being picked up by a driver, they needed to stay hidden. No well-meaning person was going to pick up two naked hitchhikers on the side of the road. So they walked by the edge of the tree line while Joe walked alongside the road, arm stretched out and thumb up at any sign of a passing car. With Briar being as small as it was, he was hoping he’d see a familiar face that would take mercy on his stripped downstate in the cold and pick him and the two strangers up. But Briar had never been a friendly place.

He did not know how far they walked. It felt like hours. Time was weird that way. Time was a relative term that meant something different to someone each and every moment. Time can be a release. Time could be torture. It could mean the beginning and the end of something. Time can pass as quickly as a blink of an eye or could pass by agonizingly slowly. Joe did not know which time they were on, only that it felt like ages on his body.

Joe felt like he could scream when he saw a familiar car drive up from the opposite direction. Booker. He was driving out of town, not in, but quickly he whirled the car around, pulling up to Joe on the side of the road.

“Need a lift?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hopefully will continue to update this fic but it will not be for weeks probably
> 
> writing this is therapeutic for me a bit but I have so much work to do
> 
> comment if you want more because if you don't i will just let this fic exist in my dreams

**Author's Note:**

> This could be a slow burn if I continue to write
> 
> Do you want me to write more?


End file.
